"Peace, when we are in pieces" Sermon for Sunday 26 May 2019

Sermon for Sunday 26 May 2019

6^th Sunday after Easter

Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem

The Rev. Carrie Ballenger

John 14:23-29

Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia!

Prayers for peace from a church service in 2012

For many years, I’ve signed my emails and letters and other correspondence with one little word: Peace. As in: “See you soon! Peace, Pastor Carrie.”

I’m not sure why I started doing this. I think I just liked it better than writing “sincerely” or “Yours truly” or “kind regards”. A good family friend, however, has taken issue with my use of this word as an email sign-off. One day several years ago I noticed that at the end of his email to me, sent in reply to a dinner invitation, he wrote: 

“OK, see you soon! War, Santiago.”

That’s right: War.

Now, I don’t think he really wanted to start a war—at least, not at dinner.

But my friend Santiago is a liberationist, an agitator, and a provoker. Peace, if it means maintenance of the status quo, or merely the absence of conflict and not the presence of justice, is of no interest to him. And it’s for this reason I suspect he’s wary of me using it to sign my emails—and wary of any use of the word “peace” that may be perceived as casual, silly, or flippant. Peace, and peace-making, are serious business to him.

Of course, he’s not wrong! And God knows, there’s plenty of casual use of the word “peace” in this context.

When people talk about “peace” in relation to Palestine and Israel, it’s often couched in a phrase like “peace and justice” or “Pray for the peace of Jerusalem”. While these phrases roll off our tongues easily, if you probe a little deeper, you’ll find that folks hold very disparate views about what justice is, and what the “peace of Jerusalem” might look like.  As one Jerusalem shopkeeper once said to me: “Everyone prays for the peace of Jerusalem, but what they really want is a piece of Jerusalem.”

Some want a Jerusalem in which everyone looks and talks and worships the same.

Some want a Jerusalem the way it “used to be”, whenever that was: Pre-1967. Pre-1948. Pre-British Mandate. Pre-Ottoman Empire. Or, perhaps, pre-70 AD.

But often, when people talk about “peace” in the Holy Land they simply mean “the absence of newsworthy violence.” Note that I say “newsworthy violence”—for there is violence happening in this place (and many other places) every single day. It’s just that it’s usually not counted as news, or counted as violence at all, unless it’s perpetrated against the powerful.

Then of course, there are things we say like “peace and quiet”, “peace and harmony” or “rest in peace”, which give us the idea that “peace” means something like “we have the conditions that would make for a good nap right now.”

While I love naps, if you think this is what peace means, I will simply quote one of my favorite movies, “The Princess Bride”, and say: “I don’t think that word means what you think it means…”

Peace, when you live in the midst of a military occupation, is never just a word. 

Peace is never an easy thing to define, to measure, or to create.

It’s serious business. It’s life or death…

…which makes it all the more challenging to interpret today’s reading from the Gospel according to John.

For here we encounter Jesus just after the last supper with the disciples, just after washing the disciples’ feet, just after foretelling Peter’s denial of him, and just before the crucifixion, saying:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” (John 14:27)

Jesus, in his farewell speech, leaves the disciples the gift of peace—and he promises that he does not give as the world gives. He does not give casually. He does not give with strings attached. This peace—like the grace and forgiveness we receive through the cross—is a free gift, pure and simple, one size fits all, satisfaction guaranteed. Amen!

So where is this peace, do you suppose? Where did it go?

If Jesus gifted the disciples with peace, why is the land where he was born, and died, and raised from the dead in such turmoil?

If Jesus leaves us the gift of peace, why are children dying in Yemen and in detention centers at the US border?

If Jesus leaves us the gift of peace, why are there so many school shootings in my home country, and so much violence committed in God’s name across the world?

Where is our peace? Have we simply misplaced Jesus’ gift? Did we use it up?

I admit I have wondered this at times. And I can’t count how many times I’ve heard Palestinian Christian friends say to me how they struggle to hold on to faith for this very reason. Where is our peace? We need justice. We need peace, in Jerusalem, in Israel and Palestine, in the world.

And Jesus says: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

Scripture assures, Jesus has gifted us with peace. 

But this peace is not the absence of war, although we work and pray for that. It’s not even the end of the Palestinian-Israeli conflict, although I believe it will come, sooner than we think.

No, the peace Jesus leaves us with is the peace of the presence of God.

It’s the peace of knowing we are loved by God.

Dear ones, we are loved so deeply that God sent the Son to be born among us.

We are loved so deeply that Jesus suffered for us and with us on the cross.

We are loved so deeply that the Father raised Jesus on the third day.

We are loved so deeply that the Risen Jesus appeared to the disciples several more times to assure them he was still with them.

And we are loved so deeply that God the Father sends an Advocate, the Holy Spirit, to teach us, to remind us, and to make her home with us. And now God is present with us, at all times, and in all places.

This is the peace Jesus leaves with us. This peace is serious business!

It is a peace that passes all understanding.

In fact, not only do we not always understand it, at times we don’t really believe it. We often feel unlovable. We can sometimes feel forgotten. The world and its mess can seem to drain the peace of God right out of us, leaving us in pieces.

And then the Holy Spirit, our Advocate, shows up...and we are reminded.

A few years ago, we had a special Saturday lesson on Holy Communion at my home, and the children of Redeemer baked the communion bread themselves. The next morning, they carried the loaves of bread to the altar, and then I invited them to stay and sit in front of the table while I prayed. To be honest, they looked a little bored as I held up the bread and prayed, "This is my body, given for you. Do this in remembrance of me."

But then, from in front of the altar, I heard little Cornelie shout:

"I think you lifted MY loaf during that prayer! That’s my Jesus!” Amen!

And then, at the end of the service, the kids all gathered around again to report what they had learned in Sunday school. "We drew the things that make us afraid, Pastor Carrie!" they said. At the top of the list were spiders and snakes. Also, one little boy said, “I’m afraid of holes with dark in them".

Ruben said, "I am afraid of shooting guns and tanks." "Me, too," I told him.

"But" Ruben added, "We learned God is always with us. Everywhere, and every time! So we don’t have to be afraid.” Amen and amen!

Sometimes peace—and the lack of it—really is beyond our understanding. Sometimes our hearts are troubled, and we are afraid.

And then, thanks be to God, we are reminded. We are reminded that the love of God in Christ Jesus is our peace. We are reminded that God is with us, in every time and in every place. We are reminded that God has made God’s home with us.

And you know what?

This peace, when it is the foundation of our lives, gives a firm place to stand and a soft place to fall when we are doing the hard work of being peacemakers—

When we are working for peace based on justice for all people in the holy land,

When we are advocating for safety and dignity for people of all races, all genders, all religions,

When we are making sure that everyone has enough to eat, and a place to her head, and the chance to live life, and life abundant.

The peace of knowing God’s presence, of knowing how deeply we are loved, gives us the strength and courage to love more, to forgive more, to share more—not only because we love Jesus and want to keep his Word, but because he loves us.

Dear siblings in Christ, know how deeply you are loved. And may this peace, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

(Video below: a live version of the hymn we sang in worship on Sunday: "How Deep the Father's Love for Us")